


Caretaker

by foxthefanboi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, First Kiss, Kevin Tran Has a Crush on Sam Winchester, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), POV Kevin Tran, POV Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28573842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxthefanboi/pseuds/foxthefanboi
Summary: Kevin is sick, and Sam is determined to take care of him until he's better. Kevin's too sleepy to keep his subconscious in check, and he accidentally reveals that he has a crush on Sam.
Relationships: Kevin Tran/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Caretaker

It’s just past two A.M. When they pull back into the bunker’s garage, Sam and Dean in the front seat, Kevin asleep in the back.

“Hey Kev, we’re back,” Sam calls over his shoulder as he climbs out of the car.

Silence. Kevin’s still fast asleep.

Sam opens the back door and shakes Kevin’s shoulder. Nothing. “Kevin?” He straightens up and looks at Dean.

“Dude’s been awake for three straight days,” Dean says with a shrug. “Can’t blame him for not wanting to wake up.”

“Well, do we just leave him here?” Sam asks.

“I don’t know, do you want to try smelling salts? Or, carry him inside and put him to bed like a toddler?”

Dean’s joking but Sam frowns, thinking about it. Kevin really does deserve better than being left in the bunker’s garage overnight.

He bends down again and shakes Kevin, a little stronger this time. “Okay, Kevin, I’m going to pick you up.” No response, so Sam scoops him up and carries him princess style. Sam’s got nine inches and about fifty pounds of muscle on him, so Kevin’s slim weight feels like nothing.

“I see we’re taking the sleepy toddler route,” Dean says as he holds open the bunker’s door for Sam.

Kevin’s eyes slowly blink open just around the time Sam reaches Kevin’s room. “My prince charming,” he sighs, before drifting off again. Sam laughs softly as he sets Kevin down on his bed and drapes a blanket over him.

“Sammy?” Kevin murmurs, eyes still closed.

“Yeah,” Sam says, already turned towards the door.

“Goodnight kiss?”

Sam smiles. Poor kid. He bends down and presses a kiss to the top of Kevin’s head.

“No, no, no,” Kevin says groggily, rolling over slightly. “Real kiss, Sam.” His hand slides to the back of Sam’s neck and he tugs him down slightly until their lips meet. It’s just a quick kiss, half a second long before Kevin dozes off again, but Sam takes in a sharp breath and backs up quickly to the door.

He lets himself out and leans against the closed door. What was that?

—

Sam hasn’t seen Kevin in a full twenty-four hours. When Kevin sleeps, it’s usually for two hours or twenty hours with no in between, so it’s not entirely unusual, but Sam goes to check on him anyway.

He knocks on Kevin’s bedroom door.

“Yeah?” comes a hoarse voice from the other side.

Sam opens the door a crack and peeks his head in.

Kevin’s lying in bed covered in sweat, looking paler than usual with dark circles under his eyes.

“Whoa, man, are you okay?” Sam asks.

“I thingk I’m sick,” Kevin says, his voice coming out stuffy.

Sam walks over to the bed and lays a hand on Kevin’s forehead. It’s burning. “Hold on.” Sam gets a thermometer and comes back. “Open,” Sam says, and Kevin opens his mouth. Sam puts the thermometer under Kevin’s tongue, waits a moment, and then takes it out. 102 degrees. “Jesus, Kevin. You need to take better care of yourself.”

“There’s no time,” he says. “You can bring the tablet here. I don’t think I can get out of bed, but I can work in my room.”

Sam cracks an incredulous smile. “Dude, you’re taking a day off. Seriously.”

“No, I can—“ Kevin is interrupted by a fit of coughing.

“Stay here,” Sam says. “I’m going to get you some soup.”

It’s amazing Kevin doesn’t get sick more often, considering his complete lack of self-care, Sam thinks as he prepares a bowl of canned chicken noodle soup and some tea.

“What’s up?” Dean asks as he passes through the kitchen to grab a beer.

“Kevin’s sick,” Sam says.

“Of course he is.”

“102-degree fever.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Damn. Poor kid.”

“He’s been working too hard.”

“We all have.”

Sam shrugs. It’s true, but at least Sam and Dean are used to it. Just a couple of years ago, Kevin was just an advanced placement student preparing for college. Now, he’s lost his mom, his girlfriend, and all hopes of having a normal life, and a huge responsibility rests on his shoulders.

Sam is carrying the bowl of soup and a steaming mug of tea through the library towards Kevin’s room when he stops short. Kevin is sitting at the library table, staring blearily at the tablet.

“Uh-uh,” Sam says, setting down the bowl and mug. “I told you to take the day off. Back to bed.”

“But—“ Kevin says.

“Come on.” Sam helps Kevin to his feet. He stumbles a little bit. How did he even get from his room to here? Sam frowns but he doesn’t have much of a choice. He scoops Kevin up into his arms like he’d done the night before and carries him back to Kevin’s room.

“Hey!” Kevin protests weakly, but after a moment he rests his head against Sam’s chest. “I don’t need you to do this, you know.”

“Sure.”

Sam deposits Kevin back on the bed and points at him with a commanding finger. “Stay.”

“Okay,” Kevin says, rolling his eyes.

Sam comes back a minute later with the soup and tea and a few bottles of medicine tucked under his arm. He sets it all down. He opens the bottle of Dayquil and is about to pour some into the small cup, but Kevin takes the bottle from his hand and swallows a couple of swigs directly out of the bottle. He makes a face. “Gross. Now food. Gimme.”

Sam passes over the bowl of soup, and Kevin sips at it.

“Good?”

Kevin winces a little. “Hurts my throat. But good.”

Sam pulls over a chair and plops down into it, swinging his feet up to rest on the bed.

“What’re you doing?” Kevin asks.

“Staying here to keep an eye on you.”

“What? No.”

“I don’t want our number one prophet to die.”

“Don’t be dramatic. If I’m gonna die, it’s gonna be from a demon.”

“We’re not gonna let that happen either,” Sam says. He picks up the TV remote from the nightstand. Kevin’s got one in his room too—pretty small, but big enough to watch from bed. “TV or sleep?” Sam asks.

“TV, I guess.”

“Your choice.”

Kevin thinks about it for a minute. “Friends.”

“Friends?” Sam asks, eyebrows raised.

Kevin scowls at him. “It’s a good comfort show. You don’t have to stay.”

“Alright. Sure. Friends.” Sam puts it on Netflix and they sit silently as the opening credits come on, both of them quiet except for the sound of Kevin slurping his stew.

A few minutes pass before Kevin sets down his bowl on the nightstand and pushes it away.

“You didn’t finish,” Sam says. He notices Kevin shivering and frowns. “You okay?”

“Just… cold.”

Sam grabs a blanket from the shelf and drapes it over Kevin. “Better?”

“N-not really.”

Sam’s not really thinking when he crawls onto the bed next to Kevin and wraps an arm around him, and by the time he’s done it, he immediately regrets it. He wanted to make Kevin feel better but now he’s just made it weird.

“Sam?” Kevin says, sounding a little freaked out.

“It was just a way to warm you up,” Sam says, starting to withdraw his arm.

Kevin leans back against Sam’s arm, pinning it. “No, it’s okay. I just don’t want to get you sick.”

Sam laughs lightly. “Trust me, you won’t get me sick.” Sam hasn’t been sick in years—at least, not with anything that wasn’t supernaturally induced. Healthy diet and exercise pay off.

“Okay,” Kevin says, and he snuggles in closer to Sam.

He stops shivering within a couple of minutes, and his breathing starts to go steady. Sam looks down to see Kevin asleep against him and smiles, feeling something flutter in his chest. Kid deserves a break.

He considers leaving, letting Kevin rest by himself but—Kevin seems comfortable here. And Sam is comfortable, too. No reason to move, right?

Dean passes by the door during the third episode of Friends, and then immediately backs up to stare into the room.

“Do I want to know what’s going on here?” he asks at the sight of Sam, his arm wrapped around a sleeping Kevin.

“He was cold,” Sam says defensively.

“And you decided _this_ was the best way to warm him up?”

Sam feels heat rise to his cheeks. Kevin didn’t seem to mind, and it worked, but it’s still weird. Kevin’s not a pretty girl Sam’s trying to make a move on. Kevin is… well, Kevin.

“Keep it PG,” Dean says, before moving on, and Sam rolls his eyes. As if.

—

Kevin returns to consciousness feeling much better. No more too hot or too cold, no more aches and pains—well, no more than usual. He blinks his eyes open slowly, his room dark except for the dull light from the hallway.

He rolls onto his side. Hm. His pillow doesn’t feel quite… Oh, it’s an arm. Sam’s facing him, asleep on his side next to Kevin on the bed. Kevin must still be asleep, or asleep enough. This is a dream he’s had before, at least. He rests a hand on the side of Sam’s face—the way he’s done before, in his dreams—and runs his thumb idly along Sam’s cheekbone.

He dozes off, his hand still resting on Sam. As he drifts away, he can’t help but feel like this is different, more real somehow, and…

It comes back to him, Sam taking care of him the day before, sitting right next to him to keep him warm while he shivered from the fever. Kevin’s eyes fly open as he pulls his hand back like it’s been burned.

Sam’s eyes are open now and looking at Kevin, expressionless.

“Oh, god,” Kevin says. He’d seriously done that. He’d seriously caressed Sam’s face. His subconscious had finally done it, finally betrayed him.

He rolls away from Sam, a little too far because he goes right over the edge of the bed and onto the floor. “Fuck,” he says as he hits the concrete floor. That’s going to leave bruises. He jumps up to his feet right away, though. Because… Sam.

“Sorry,” Kevin says, holding up his hands apologetically.

“Kevin, wait,” Sam says, sitting up.

But Kevin’s too tired and stressed to deal with this right now.“Sorry,” he says again, and bolts out the door.

—

Kevin successfully avoids Sam the next day, but it’s hard to do when they live in the same bunker. It’s by the end of day two that Kevin runs into Sam in the kitchen.

“Hey,” Sam says when he sees Kevin, totally casually from his spot at the table. “Dean’s gone into town to pick up some groceries, if you want to text him anything you need.”

“Uh-huh.” Maybe it was a dream, the other night. Sam doesn’t seem to be affected at all by the awkwardness that’s filling Kevin. So it must be one-sided right?

Kevin goes to grab a frozen burrito from the fridge.

Sam takes a deep breath. “So—“ he starts, and Kevin freezes. “Should we talk about the other night?”

Kevin laughs nervously, cautiously continuing to prepare his frozen burrito. “What happened the other night?”

“Well,” Sam says, considering it for a moment. “I dozed off in your bed. Because you were sick and I was keeping you company. Of course.”

“Of course,” Kevin supplies.

“And then we both woke up in the middle of the night,” Sam says, a little slower. Kevin feels Sam looking at him but he’s steadfastly avoiding looking back. He presses the start button on the microwave and watches the burrito spin around in the microwave instead of facing Sam. “And then…” Another deep breath. “You left before I could say anything.”

Sam’s being evasive—intentionally evasive, not because he forgot, Kevin’s sure—but Kevin skips right to the point. Eyes still focused on the dimly lit microwave, he says, “It was just an accident. I was sick, so I wasn’t really thinking straight.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, but it’s obvious it’s not the end of the conversation. “There was another time.”

 _What?_ Kevin turns around in surprise. “Another time,” he states.

“Remember when you slept the whole way back from Minnesota?”

“Yeah,” Kevin says, and he feels dread in the pit of his stomach. Yeah, that was the time he’d fallen asleep in the back seat of the Impala and woken up in his own bed. He’d just figured he’d stumbled there himself and forgot about it, but…

“You were sleeping,” Sam says, in a slightly defensive tone. “And I didn’t want to wake you up. So I carried you to your room.”

“Oh,” Kevin says. “Okay.” So maybe this wasn’t so bad. Sort of weird, but not by him.

“And you kissed me.”

The microwave beeps and Kevin turns back around to turn it off, relieved to have an excuse to hide his rapidly reddening face.

“Kevin.”

“It was just an accident,” Kevin says.

“We can talk about it, if you want,” Sam says.

Kevin faces Sam, sees the compassionate look on his face—maybe, pity? That some pathetic kid wants to be with someone way out of his league? “Look,” Kevin says. “Yeah, I have a crush on you. Like, a super far-fetched, unrealistic crush on you, but it doesn’t mean anything, okay?” He crosses his arms defensively. “I’ll just keep my subconscious in check from now on and you won’t have to worry about me being weird. Okay?”

Sam stands up from the table and approaches where Kevin is leaning against the counter, stopping a little too close in front of him. Kevin swallows and has to look up to see Sam’s face. Sam’s got nine inches on Kevin, but the height difference has never seemed so intimidating before.

“A crush, huh?” Sam asks, and a corner of his mouth turns up.

He rests his hands on the counter on either side of Kevin. Kevin’s heart pounds hard in his chest. Is this really happening?

But then Sam frowns. “How old are you? Twenty?”

It takes Kevin a moment to think of his age—birthdays haven’t been important to him the past few years, so it’s been hard to keep track. “Twenty-one,” he says after a moment.

Sam lets out a long exhale, doubt clouding his features. “God.”

Kevin is so close, he thinks, at least. Maybe this isn’t real, but… “I’m old enough to make my own decisions,” he says firmly, his eyes meeting Sam’s unflinchingly. “I’ve been through enough, I think I get that at least.”

Sam searches Kevin’s eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, you do.” And then Sam leans down and his lips are on Kevin’s and Kevin inhales sharply against Sam’s mouth in surprise but his thoughts are crowded with self-consciousness—he brushed his teeth today, didn’t he? Is he kissing okay? He hasn’t kissed anyone since Channing, and he knows he hadn’t been good at it with her. So maybe suave, experienced Sam is finding out he’d made a mistake in kissing inexperienced, awkward Kevin.

Sam pulls back. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, but I just… You’re you. I’m me,” Kevin says.

Sam frowns. “What does that mean?”

“Sam Winchester,” Kevin says, gesturing at Sam. “Legendary hunter. Savior of the world. A perfect ten.” He points to himself. “The guy you only keep around because he can translate God’s word. Almost a total nobody. Uh,” he hesitates before adding, “Virgin. And _maybe_ a five on a good day.”

“Are you serious?” Sam asks. “Kevin…” Sam sighs. “We care about you. I care about you. And you’re too hard on yourself.” Sam brings up a hand to rest on the side of Kevin’s neck. “Just relax, okay?”

Kevin stares at Sam for a moment before giving a slight nod. He’s not sure he can but Sam kisses him again, but Kevin’s back in his head still, and then Sam murmurs “ _relax_ ” against his lips and so finally, finally he does, letting go of the doubt and self-consciousness and just kissing Sam.

It feels good. Kevin’s been touch-deprived for years, ever since he became a prophet and gave up having a life for reading ancient tablets. And now he has Sam’s soft lips on his, Sam’s calloused but gentle hand against his skin, the warmth radiating off of Sam onto him. It feels _good_.

“Hey,” Sam says, pulling away for a moment. “Dean won’t be home for at least another hour.”

“And...?”

Sam laughs and hangs his head slightly. “Never mind.”

“Never mind?” Kevin asks, confused, and then it hits him. “Oh. _Oh._ You want to…”

Sam draws his eyebrows together. “Do _you_ want to?”

“Yes,” he says, a little too enthusiastically. “I mean, I never have before, but yes.”

“Okay,” Sam says.

“Hey,” Kevin says.

“Yeah?”

He hesitates, thinking back to how Sam had carried him to his room a couple of days ago and how hot it had been to feel Sam’s strength up close. “Can you carry me again?”

Sam grins and picks Kevin up, and Kevin wraps his arms around Sam’s shoulders. “You like this?”

Kevin nods, feeling breathless. “Yeah.”

When they reach Sam’s room, Sam lays Kevin down on the bed before crawling to hover over him, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the corner of Kevin’s mouth. He pulls back and meets Kevin’s eyes, a sudden hesitance in them. “You’ve never…?”

“Please,” Kevin says, and he wraps his legs around Sam’s waist pulling him closer. Sam’s hardness presses against Kevin’s through the fabric separating them. Kevin doesn’t know what happens next, but he wants more, he wants _Sam_.

“Okay,” Sam says. “But tell me what you need, okay? Tell me if it’s too much.”

Kevin doubts anything would be too much, but he nods, and Sam kisses him again.

—

When Dean gets back an hour later, Sam and Kevin are sitting in the library, both of them with their hair wet from recent showers and idly flipping through lore books.

“Hey,” Dean says coming into the library. He looks back and forth between the two of them. Something has changed. Sam and Kevin exchange a glance and smile at each other, and Dean frowns. “Did I miss something?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts and constructive criticism welcome and appreciated :)


End file.
